


Pouring Rain

by Sentimental_Meteor



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bubbline, Childhood Friends, F/F, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Rain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:41:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27644269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sentimental_Meteor/pseuds/Sentimental_Meteor
Summary: Bonnie and I were friends back then since we were kids. We spent a lot of time in each other's houses but ever since she transferred schools, it was never the same thing again. It was just a funny thing how fate wants us to be together again under a single umbrella in this pouring rain on our way back home.Bubbline AU!
Relationships: Princess Bubblegum/Marceline
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> This is originally posted in my Fanfiction.net account. I'm slowly transferring it here chapter by chapter.  
> It's still incomplete in FF.net and I'm just trying to get back in writing this story. The last update of this story is way back in 2017. (Yikes.) But watching Obsidian made me want to get back in all my unfinished AT stories. T.T (See the power of Bubbline in action??? That's what its making me do. T.T I love them so much.)
> 
> Also, the story is in Marceline's POV.  
> That's it. pls enjoy.

The day started bad for me.

And this pouring rain didn't make it any better...

But let's backtrack to how my morning started.

I woke up so early this morning with no idea how that happened because normally, I woke minutes after the school bell rings, in which I skipped first class.

But not this time. I really don't know why... Well, scratch that. I actually know why. I just don't want to think about it.

I had a dream, you see. I dreamt a long-lost memory. I didn’t even have a vague idea why that memory resurfaced back to me.

But it was about Bonnibel Becket.

My dream started with little Bonnibel playing the piano. I was gazing at her from their couch and Gregory, her brother, was beside me.

We were both staring at her. That is how captivating Bonnie was. Even if she was a seven-year old child that looked so small behind their big piano, she still looked lovely and the scene looked so pure, so innocent.

The moment was muted but the feeling was there. I couldn't remember what her piece was at the minute. But the tapping of her fingers on the black and white keys of their grand piano was quite familiar with me - even if the whole memory-slash-dream was muted. Then, suddenly I remembered the piece. It easily came back to me. It was The Swan by Saint-Saens.

Something clicked in my brain when I remembered what she was playing and because of that, I could now hear the musical melody coming from the piano. It was a beautiful scene really. I loved it and now I love it.

And then my dream shifted.

This time we were going back home from school when suddenly her shoelace loosened. I was beside her but still I caught it in my peripheral. I held her back and said something to her and we exchanged words I couldn't quite remember since it was a past memory.

I didn't know the exact words we used although one thing was sure. I was telling her that her shoelace had been untied while we were walking and it should be fixed or else she might fall down on her face.

I crouched down in front of her, kneeling on my right knee as I tied up her right shoe, feeling the pink lace making contact with my skin before tying it up in a knot.

I couldn't remember if we were talking while I was tying up her shoe or if we were just surrounded by silence.

But I looked up to her - still crouching down - and saw that she was looking down at me too and then she smiled and laughed... I remember her laugh like it just happened yesterday instead of years ago.

I said something - still couldn't remember the exact words - but I know what myself was thinking that time. Bonnibel was pushing me away from her now, almost kicking me with her foot, stopping me from tying her shoe up but I could see that there was a hint of smile at the corner of her lips.

I was just making a tangled mess of knot! It's not even a big deal!

Well, as long as she wouldn't fall face-down on the ground, she'd be okay. Hahaha.

I was now running away from her - a light jog actually, since I knew she's not that good at running and her shoelace was now a tangled mess. Thanks to me.

Unfortunately, I didn't hear any footsteps behind me and I stopped my feet from taking a step forward anymore.

Looking behind back, I saw Bonnie crouching down, tying her shoelace properly now. And then, she was running to me. Damn it! I ran away from her before she could even catch up.

She was yelling things to me but I knew she was not really that mad. I kind of remember her telling me that I'm dead if I let her catch me though.

"I really, really hate you!"

I faced her, now running backwards. "Me too!" I said with a laugh, knowing she was just joking and I was just carrying on with her mood.

And now, I hate how I remember our exact words, how I wanted to know what happened after I stopped running so Bonnibel could catch up to me - about what happened after the slap on my arm she gave me when she already caught up to me and then the laughs and the smiles and the talks after that.

But I guess I will never remember what happened after since my dream shifted again.

This time there's no Bonnibel.

It was just my mom, my dad and I, in the dining room, eating dinner with the television on.

Dad was talking about something funny - I think it was funny from the way my mom and I laughed. I couldn't remember the actual joke even if I wanted to.

And then I blurted something about wanting to learn about music or any musical instrument for the matter.

I was seven years old that time and really when you're that young you just blurted out anything you wanted to, right?

Anyway, my mom and dad were happy. We talked about music a lot and when they asked me why the change of heart, I shrugged my shoulders and said nothing even though I know in myself that I just want to impress a certain piano prodigy.

For the last time, my dream changed.

I was on the backstage, eyeing the necktie looped around my neck in front of the mirror.

I remember this time now. I had the leading role for a play we were required to perform on stage, I actually don't want to participate in events like this. Normally, I'm just props for plays, like trees or bushes, or a rock, those kinds of things but this time, I'm not one of those. I'm the lead role. The male lead role. Damn.

I was just supposed to be a friend of one of the leads, but when our teacher asked who could sing well because there's one scene where the male lead role has to serenade the female lead - yes, this is a love story, stupid idea, and such sap - suddenly there were twenty-eight pairs of eyes staring right through me.

Somebody shouted my name and up until now I don't know whose voice that was. It's kind of frustrating since I will never know because I transferred schools. Anyway, before I could even decline the role, some of my classmates argued that I'm not the only one that could sing well.

I waited if somebody would volunteer. Well, check it out! No one did. It really sucks to be me. Nobody wanted the role and I'm pretty sure nobody really wanted to participate at all.

A series of chattering began when no one volunteered. One was saying I could pull it through. I muted the others before I could hear any more mutterings.

It caused a ruckus, actually. Shouting, laughing, teasing, anything a bunch of devil children could do was happening. They just don't want to spend their little time to a theatre play they could barely do because they were really against this school play in the first place.

Suddenly, our teacher, slammed her hand on table and stared us. She just stared at us with a look of discipline and disappointment - and that's not her usual look, I tell you. I have a feeling that she wanted to say something but she never opened her mouth and then she walked out of class just like that.

Wow.

A teacher walking out of class... Wow.

If I weren't feeling so guilty and angry because of my classmates, I would also walk out of this room, and spent the rest of my free time in the music room.

The class was so silent. And then the whispers came. Suddenly, we were all afraid - even me - because there's a pretty good chance that Ms. Pound would rat us out to the guidance counsellor and that would make our school cards be tainted with the counsellor's signature. We don't want that.

And then Bonnibel stood up and walked in front of the class... and she talked.

Long story short. She made the class calmer. She then suggested an idea that we should just talk about the play. Most people nodded even though they just wanted this class to end immediately.

And that was where the suggestion of picking random names began... and so we draw out names for different roles.

"Marceline Abadeer!"

My mouth was left agape because that's stupid. I was picked out again for the male role. Augh.

And then I heard Bonnibel's name for the female lead role. I craned my head to look at her but she was busy with the other committees in managing the class. Well, at least I'm comfortable with her.

When the evil stepmother was appointed to Chicle, everybody laughed. When the butcher boy was assigned to Melissa, all hell broke loose. Everybody was laughing in a fit of spasm - since we couldn't imagine her standing in a boy's role - but this kind of laugh was not the bad kind of way. It was funny, enjoyable, like were all friends, which is really, stupid to think about.

In the end, the play will be comedic since most of the actors were gender switched. Bonnie was the one who talked to Ms. Pound. And that was it.

But back to my dream, I was saying how I was on the backstage in front of the mirror. I know what I'm feeling that time, afraid, nervous, and... slightly angry.

I stopped trying to knot the necktie around my neck when I heard a knock on the wall and Bonnie entered coming from the maintenance room. I remembered that she was wearing a black shirt with "Tech Team" written on the back part, wearing wireless headphones and holding a clipboard.

My dream wasn't like that.

In my dream, Bonnie was wearing the marshmallow-band shirt I gave her the last summer before this year and streaks of pink were noticeably visible on her blond hair. She still hadn't colored her hair back then since our middle school prohibits this kind of act - but in my dream she already had been.

"You ready?" she asked me.

I nodded, accepting the bottle of water she gave me.

"You'll do fine."

I didn't answer her.

"I'm sorry I wasn't your partner." She was talking about the fact that she couldn't take the female lead role. After her science coach knew that she has to participate in the play - care of her mother, her coach, Dr. Gross rushed out in the English Department and lashed out why Bonnie was playing some important role for the school festival instead of focusing the rest of the time for studying science.

Ms. Pound couldn't do anything except to replace Bonnie and we had to draw out names again for that. After all, that science competition was the contest before the nationals. She was fifth place last year on nationals, just so you know.

"You don't have to apologize, you know. I'm not even mad. Just win that contest for me so you can go to the nationals, okay?" I surprised myself this time because I am not lying to myself, to her.

"What's up with your tie?" I stopped sipping water to look at her just to see her looking down at the tie around my neck.

"Oh," I unwrapped it around my neck. "It's nothing," I said as I balled up the black tie on my hand, putting it inside my pocket.

She scoffed and snatched it from me. She wrapped it back around my neck and I let her tie a knot to it. I rather liked the feeling of Bonnie tying my necktie. It was really an awesome feeling.

When she was finished knotting it, she brushed invisible crumbs on my suit and pressed back my collar, fixing my overall look. I let her do those things and just stared at her.

"Sheesh, you're all sweaty," she said. I'm not even embarrassed about that fact. I'm too comfortable with her presence here with me. She brought out her white and pink handkerchief and dabbed it on my forehead and cheeks - on my face.

She shook her head and smiled.

"You're really hopeless without me," she said, still smiling - smiling that smile.

And ever since she entered the mirror room, I realized that was the first time our eyes met.


	2. Chapter 2

At seven in the morning, I was ready to go to school but I just didn’t have the courage to go with it.

Come on! My classmates would probably think a miracle happened if they saw me in class before it even started. I don’t have any good quality points at punctuality, you know.

So, I watched morning weekday cartoons to kill time until Dad said that I should spend my time to go to school. You know, “be productive”, quoting his own words.

“It’s just too early,” I defended.

“Well yeah, but you can spend your time in the music room like you always do,” he shrugged his shoulder as he fixed the tie on his suit.

I looked at him. I didn’t even consider that! I remembered how earlier he was so surprised to see me already awake in the morning.

He was so surprised, he shrieked out and cursed me, his hands were on his chest saying that was enough for a cardiac arrest – He was so used to the idea that before coming to work, both Marshall and I are still sleeping soundly on our beds.

Dad always says he wakes us up but I swear I didn’t hear him calling to us... or maybe I just tuned out anything that bothers my sleep. Yeah, that’s probably the issue.

As I walked outside, I noticed the dreary rain clouds covering the whole length of the sky - hiding the sun.

I opened my car door and let myself be comfortable on the seat before stashing my bag at the back seat. Putting the key in place, I turned the ignition. When the first try wouldn’t work, I turned it again. And again. And again. And again...

I slumped down on my seat, frustrated that my car wouldn’t start.

Opening my car again with my bag slinging on my shoulder, I traced my way back to our house. I was about to open the door when my dad beat me to it first.

“Oh. Hey, Dad.”

“Hello, Marceline.”

I ducked under Dad and was about to dash upstairs when he got a gripped on my collar.

“And where do you think you’re going, young lady? I thought you’re already on your way to school,” he exclaimed.

“Well, my car won’t start and it’s still too early for school.” I shrugged my shoulders so his grip would loosen up.

“Err. O-okay. But it’s already past seven so it’s better if you get ready. Anyway, do you need a lift? We’ll just call the mechanic for your car later.”

“Hmmm. Okay. Thanks. And no thanks, I can go to school by myself. I’m alright.” I said, walking towards the couch to sit. The plan to sleep was now at the back part of my mind since Dad had a point.

“Well, bye monster! Oh! Wake Marshall up okay? I wake him up but he didn’t even stir up a bit,” he told me as he opened again the door, finally, to go to work.

“Sure, bye.” I looked at Dad through the window when suddenly the thought of riding with my dad instead of walking down to the bust stop feels more wonderful.

“Wait, Dad!” I yelled at him.

Luckily, he still heard me, “What is it now, Marcy?!”

“Wait, I don’t want to ride the bus.”

I saw him mumbling, probably saying how quick his daughter’s mind could change over a short period of time.

“Fine, come on but not before waking Marshall up!”

I immediately went upstairs and banged Marshall’s door until I’m sure he’s awake.

“Alright! Alright! I’m awake!” he said to me as he opened his door with hair all messy, and eyes still drooping, proof of the sudden awakening coming from me.

Marshall can fend for himself even when he’s alone. So I bid him goodbye telling him that I’m about to go to school.

Quickly running downstairs in hopes Dad wouldn’t still be mad at me for being not quick enough, I run downstairs but eventually changed my mind and went back upstairs again when something triggered to me as I passed my room while waking Marshall up.

“Hey, what happened? I thought you’re already on your way to school.” I heard Marshall from behind.

I went inside my room, shutting the door in front of him as I rolled my eyes. Dad and Marshall really have a lot in common.

“Yeah, I am. Just forgot something to bring.”

* * *

“What took you so long?!” Dad said to me as I strapped myself next to him on the front passenger seat.

“Uhhh, well, I just forget something... and could you wait for a moment? Marshall’s almost ready.”

“Wait. He’s coming too?!” He said, his surprised voice not even held back.

“Yep, I am. Morning, Dad!” Marshall said in a singsong voice. _Too early, to be hyper_ , I thought as I rolled my eyes.

Dad also greeted him back as he pulled the car out of the driveway. Usual conversations filled the car as we drive through the streets.

He told Marshall how he saw me in the kitchen earlier this morning, making a toast. At that part, Marshall clapped his hand and saluted me for “the effort” in waking up early and eating breakfast since that was “definitely a first”.

I grabbed the first thing my hand could grab on the dashboard – a half-empty bottle of water – and threw it at my younger brother. He dodged it.

Damn his reflexes!

Still in defense mode triggered by the kitchen incident, I nearly told him what the reason was really about - the dreams, Bonnibel… - but got a second thought about that.

I should just bottle up and lock this memory in the deepest part of my brain rather than talking this in the whole family. They’ll probably gonna tease me about it anyway since they used to see Bonnie and I so close together before.

So instead, I told him how dad was so freaked out when he saw me in the kitchen – how he “almost got a heart attack.” After my telling them, Marshall got a hard time breathing since he never laughed so hysterically. He teased Dad a lot asking how that could be enough for a heart attack.

Dad gave me his _why-the-heck-did-you-have-to-tell-him-that_ look and I gave him my _sorry-but-it’s-really-your-fault-anyway_ shrug.

The car suddenly pulled into a halt when the traffic sign overhead turned into red, blinking back into us. Vehicles in our lane stopped as pedestrians walked the lane to cross the street from the other to the next when suddenly, lightning flashed over the sky.

“Whoa. Did you guys see that?” Marshall was leaning over from behind.

“We’re not blind, idiot,” I answered back.

Thunder boomed next.

“Well, it’s definitely going to rain heavy later... probably this evening, if we’re lucky it’s not this afternoon,” Dad assumed.

“Yep, it’s totally going to rain a bucket.” That was Marshall.

I realized then that Marshall used a metaphor. Copying the same thing he did to me, I clapped my hands exaggeratedly and saluted him. “Well, well, well. I didn’t know that you could apply Basic English language in the real world, huh?”

I saw something moving in my peripheral but it’s already too late when I realized that Marshall was doing the same thing I did a while ago. My body moved on its own but as I said, I was too late. As I was moving sidewards, the bottle directly hit my head.

“Hey!” I yelled feeling a slight prick at my side of head.

“Can you two lower it down?” Dad said. Yeah, if it wasn’t still obvious, our family bickered, a lot.

For a moment, silence was surrounding us. I was waiting for the stop sign to go green when my sight shifted down to look at some girl walking towards a bus stop.

My eyes widen with shock and I immediately lowered myself in my seat, hoping I was hidden from the girl’s sight.

Suddenly I felt stupid. First, I realized our car’s windshield is tinted black so there’s no possible way she could have seen me inside and second, why do I have to be the one who should be hiding here?

I straightened my back and felt the vibrations of the car; the light turned yellow.

I was now looking at her. She has a striking pink hair unlike when we were kids. I suddenly missed seeing her natural hair color. I had a sudden realization that maybe her pink hair was the reason why my focus from looking at the red traffic light earlier was broken.

“Well, isn’t that darling Bonnibel?” The silence was broken off by Dad. The car was now moving.

There was always a ‘darling’ before Bonnibel’s name whenever my dad would say her name. I feel like whenever my dad saw Bonnibel, he pictured her as some pretty girl who always does good deeds around her.

Though, maybe he just liked Bonnibel a lot since she’s the only one – on our age group - that calls him “Attorney Abadeer”.

Bonnibel was standing in a bus stop. Seeing her standing there feels like there’s something off about her. I just couldn’t quite grasp what it was.

“Oh yeah right, it’s Marcy’s girlfriend,” Marshall said, he emphasized the word girlfriend like that wasn’t enough teasing for the day however I realized that he was not implying the thing I’m thinking about but a girl-friend, a friend that is a girl. That pissed me off.

“Let’s gave her a ride,” Dad offered. I felt all the blood in my face draining.

 _Oh, please no. Please tell me you’re kidding_ , I thought.

But the shifting of the gear and curving of the car towards the bus stop felt real.

Thinking quickly of an excuse, I said, “Uhm, Dad, she’s not-” I stopped talking when I saw the bus.

Never have I been grateful for a bus pulling in front of a bus stop. Because if something like that never happened, we would definitely have another person riding this car. And I am very certain the air would be just too awkward for us to breathe in.

“Hmm. Pity. Maybe next time,” Dad was looking at Bonnie climbing the bus before looking back at the road, driving back the car on the center lane.

I lingered for a bit, looking at her in the side mirror until she was not in sight anymore.

“Marcy, you should invite Bonnie to our house. It seems I’ve not seen her in a long time. You’re still friends right?”

I leaned my head on the window. I actually don’t know if we’re still friends but I just nodded my head as an answer.

“You’re in the same school now, you should invite her around the house and do music. I miss her.” Marshall poked me.

“Well…” I actually don’t know what to say. “Bonnie’s just really busy in school.”

That was a truth as well as an excuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is originally posted in my Fanfiction.net account.  
> (06/18/2017)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for not updating this for how many weeks. I'm now good to write again since classes just ended! Wooh!
> 
> So this is it.

Whether you believe it or not, I was late for first class.

After Dad dropped me off to school, I rushed into the music room. It was, of course, not locked and at this time of hour, there were still no students so it was pretty much empty.

People can easily come and go into the music room, as long as you have a music pass and granted a permission to come from any teachers at the music department.

Me, I don’t need to do that. I already have the privilege to go. Yep, that’s how awesome I am.

I plucked the string of a bass guitar I grabbed from its stand, strumming some chords too. When I felt tired just from standing, I walked to the armchair propped by the windows. Staring at the windows, I could see that students of different grades walking back and forth the building.

I looked at my watch and saw it was still 15 minutes before first class. I paced back and forth around the room when I noticed the piano at the other room, it was actually a separate room but a large two-way door served as its connection. I walked towards the piano.

Every time I saw a piano, Bonnibel would be the first thing to pop out of my mind. She was after all a genius in this instrument. But I no longer saw her playing piano. I don’t even know if she still plays the instrument.

As I rounded the piano, I noticed that there was a hard-bounded piano scorebook laying on the piano stool that I haven’t noticed before.

I picked it up and after turning some pages, I easily became bored with it. It was mostly classical musical scores (Duuh). However, something urged me to play something from it.

I sat at the stool, opened the book on my lap, and searched some scores I could play.

As I flipped through the pages, I saw some scores that I’m sure Bonnie would love to play and probably know how to: Liszt’s, Tchaikovsky’s, Bach, Chopin, Saint-Saens, Ravel, etc... I then realized that this is an advanced book since I’m trying to find some simple scores and couldn’t find one.

Every now and then, I stopped and tried to play some music scores on the piano however, it was only for a short period of time.

I’m familiar with some classical music but I don’t know why every time I played it on the piano it just feels different.

_How did Bonnie do this?_

I slumped down my head on the keys and a loud off-key tone rang throughout the room. I closed my eyes and remembered my dream last night… Bonnibel playing on their piano and just easily like that, I was off to the dream world.

Yes, I slept. And yes, that was the reason why I’m late for first class.

When I ran to my first period, Professor Trunks was already discussing something to the class. She looked at me with surprise and let me inside the room, she smiled at me.

At first, that totally creeped me out until I realized that she didn’t scold me again for being late.

I guess, for a person as tardy as me, being late for ten minutes would be a miracle. After all, I was always late in first subject ever since the first day of class, barely leaving only 30 minutes for the discussion of the professor – I even sometimes skipped first class.

As I sat at my chair and looked in front of the room, I tried desperately to listen to what my teacher was talking about.

However, I was distracted.

I slept at the music room and I know that was because I couldn’t get enough sleep last night. I was now thinking that I’m probably too thick to wake up since I know that the school bell rings so loud.

However, the main thing that was really bothering me was another else. It was the fact that when I wake up, a jacket was pulled up to my shoulders. I was, of course, scared out of my wits. The first thought that pushed through my mind was that there was a poltergeist in the music room.

I pushed those thoughts out of my head and I started taking notes and listened attentively when Professor Trunks said that there will be a quiz after the lesson. But when you are suffering a stiff neck from slumping your head on a piano for several minutes, I’m sure as hell you wouldn’t be focused too. But still I tried.

Of course, that failed miserably.

I was again brought back to that time in the music room.

When I was busy thinking who put the jacket around my shoulders, I realized one thing: The book on my lap was nowhere to be found. I immediately checked around the floor, thinking that it was probably dropped somewhere but there was nothing.

A sudden thought passed through me that moment. The possibility that the owner of the book and the jacket being the same was large. That was the moment I realized that first class was already starting. I dashed off to the other room and grabbed my bag, stuffing the black leather jacket inside.

_When lunch comes, I’ll ask some music teachers and find out who the owner is. It was probably some good and thoughtful teacher._

I leaned my back on my seat. As I look towards the windows, I saw the dark graying sky. I wish I sat by the windows so I could see the people coming in and out of the building but no, I’m by the middle seat of the class. I stared again on the board and finally tried again to focus on the lesson.

By lunch period, the rain came down rashly.

I asked Betty, one of the music teachers I really like, but she said that no one in their department have a black leather jacket like the one I have in my bag. That was that. I should have just left the jacket on the music room and let the owner find it again.

I sighed deeply, frustrated about what the stupid jacket was bringing me. I don’t know what to make out of this. Somehow, I feel weird about it but mostly I just feel happy that the owner was concerned about me. Though, I think it would be much better if that person just woke me up.

I was about to head upstairs so I could leave the stupid jacket when I saw Keila heading downstairs.

“Hey, Marcy. We’re you going?” She asked. She is one of my close friends as well as my bandmate.

I nodded, looking upstairs. “To the music room.”

“Huh?” She seemed confused. “It’s only minutes away to the next class.”

And true. I looked at my watch and saw she was telling me the truth.

She laughed. “Come on, guitar hero,” she hooked her arm on my shoulders. “Don’t tell me you’re ditching class for music again.”

I rolled my eyes and let her pull me into our boring history class.

Every class I took that afternoon felt so long, I couldn’t wait until classes would be over. The rain not even bothering to stop for once, made me feel sleepy. And I can tell that I’m not the only one suffering. Several students were already crouching down their seats, yawning with lidded eyes.

I shook my head awake and tried to listen to the professor. 

Finally, the bell for the last period rung, signaling the end of the school day.

Immediately, students kept pushing towards the door. I don’t know why people have to push their way into a cramp corridor. Me, I always wait minutes after so I won’t have to be squished there. Other classmates greeted me saying their _goodbyes_ and _see ya laters._ In return, I nodded my head and greeted them back.

For another several minutes and so, I practiced with my band in the band room – another interconnected room of the music room. This was our routine every Friday. After a few songs, they left me, leaving me alone to close the door. Yep, they always do that to me. I can’t believe we’re all friends!

As I walk outside of the room, I realized that the building was quieter.

Students might have already gone home since classes ended long ago.

I was already outside of our building when I forgot to left the leather jacket in the music room.

I groaned out loud, frustrated that I forgot it while I was there but I was already feeling lazy from going up and down the stairs all day and the sound of just doing it tomorrow feels good to hear.

What’s more is it’s already late and I don’t have my car around. That means I’ll have to take a ride back home or start walking in this rain.

I slung my bag in front and zipped it open. Earlier in the morning, I grabbed an umbrella from my room after realizing that it might rain. Though I can’t help but think that it was a bad day for it to rain now that my car was broken.

The fates really want to punish me badly.

As I open the umbrella, I heard some shuffling behind me. Of course, my curiosity got the best of me.

I turn my head around and saw the least person I was expecting to see. Bonnibel Becket.

We talked occasionally but it was never the same back as then, especially the last time we met. We were friends back then since we were kids and we went to each other’s house all the time since our families were very close – well, just my mom and her’s.

Bonnibel and I just stopped hanging out when she transferred here in seventh grade. I came in ninth grade, and she wasn’t very excited to see me in her class. By the time I got here from my old school, Laura and her squad had kind of made Bonnibel be part of their circle. They had this weird bond that I didn’t understand.

They talked about clothes and TV shows I never had interest in. It was like watching a _Seventeen_ magazine article come to life, where the models look like they’re laughing about something you wouldn’t just understand.

I don’t think Bonnibel or I really missed each other that much but my dreams last night stirred up many hidden feelings behind those memories. And it just dawned to me right now, I missed her.

Sometimes though, I wonder how she’s doing when I see her in school because she just seems so… _different_ now and so far from me.

When my mom died two years ago, months after my transfer, she along with their entire family attended the funeral rite. We hadn’t really spoken outside of school for so long but seeing her in mom’s funeral wasn’t strange. She greeted me and said her sorry.

Before they left, her mom hugged me tightly. That was the moment when all the tears I tried so hard to hold back rushed out of me. Seeing Mrs. Becket just made me think about my mom.

I guess, I looked pitiful as I sobbed at the shoulders of her mom, because Bonnibel also gave me a hug and lent me a handkerchief – to wipe those snots dripping down my face. Augh.

Now that I think about it that was probably the first time Bonnibel saw me crying.

I was the kind of kid that always faced every hard challenge, a pretty, tough kid you could say while Bonnie was the kind that was always behind me, saying that it was not a good idea and that we should probably just get home early unscathed.

Of course, being the kind of kid I was, I usually didn’t listen to her and being the kid Bonnie was, she wouldn’t leave me alone.

So, seeing me at my worst, crying, probably made Bonnie see me in a new entire light.

I was very surprised when she stayed beside me. I didn’t ask her if her family was waiting for her outside or if she would just take a ride back home. In contrast, she also didn’t spoke to me at all.

Well, at first. She was the first one to start a conversation, which is also about my mom until we started reminiscing about our younger selves. She didn’t stay long but I have a feeling that her motive was just to make me smile or happy because after that she finally took off.

I didn’t dare ask her why she avoided me all those times when we were at school. I’m scared. And I’m very, very sure that I was vulnerable at that time and I think Bonnie knew it too.

We didn’t talk like that again until her mom passed away, a year later after Mom’s.

It was very sudden. We received the call from Greg saying that she died while on labor with their youngest brother, Benedict.

When we went to the Becket’s funeral service, I saw their family.

My father was the only one who talked with them. I didn’t dare talked to her.

Now I’m just regretting that moment. So, after several days, I went to their house for the mourning (or remembrance. It is a tradition to spend days of mourning after the death of family/close relative).

I saw a lot of schoolmates and of course, her clique leaving as I walked in. We greeted each other and they pointed me in Bonnibel’s direction.

I stood around, feeling a little bit uncomfortable with my surroundings. I haven’t been in to her house for a long time now. Even with all the mourners and tables of food, the place seems so large. It just looks familiar yet not that the one I’m used to.

I noticed Bonnibel with her father, surrounded by their business partners. She made eye contact with me and excused herself.

“Hey,” she greeted with a smile not even reaching her eyes. “Thanks for coming.”

I smiled at her. “It was a nice service the other day.”

We talked for a while but I didn’t stay long to actually make her laugh like what she did. We just talked about our Mom’s being awesome and all.

“Anyway, I better let you get back to things. I feel like I’m holding you up now,” I saw a hint of smile on her lips but I continued. “But listen, when your mom visited months ago after – uhm – my mom’s passing-”

Bonnibel nodded her head, understanding what I’m talking about.

“She gave me this book my mom used to have.”

I saw the confusion in Bonnie’s eyes so I explained it.

“When they were in high school, my mom gave Mrs. Becket a book for a Christmas gift. My mom highlighted a lot of words in it as well as notes for Mrs. Becket to read. Apparently, your mom also replied to those notes and wrote somethings on it. Sadly, Mom didn’t know this.”

I shrugged my shoulders and gave her the battered book from my bag. It was hard-bounded and notes could be seen slipping from the edges.

“I already read it and it was a lovely book,” I smiled remembering how the book ended.

Bonnibel touched the cover and opened it.

“Oh, be careful on it. The notes were slipped on certain pages so it might fall. That’s your mom’s rule when she gave it to me.”

Bonnibel chuckled and shook her head. “Yeah, mom doesn’t like it when her books are trashed so easily.” She smiled but easily got confused when she started to flip some pages. “Who’s-?”

I checked out what made her confused. “Oh yeah, that. Mom’s highlights were the yellow ones. Mrs. Becket’s were the-”

“Pink. Yeah, I should’ve known,” Bonnibel said, finishing my sentence.

I nodded my head. Bonnibel was reading some notes written by her mom when I heard some sniffing coming from her.

“Oh, well,” sighing, she closed the book and looked at me. I could see that she was about to cry. “Thank you, Marce. This really means a lot to me.” She smiled, and I’m thankful that it was the same kind of smile I used to see before.

I nodded my head, I gave her the handkerchief she lent me months ago, and then she hugged me. I almost jumped back in surprise but I wrapped my arms around her too.

“I know that we’re not… best friends or whatever,” I started. “But if you need anything, I’m always here, Bonnie.”

But after that, it seemed that the fragile line that we’re both walking just snapped. We didn’t have a passing glance together and we didn’t acknowledge each other anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll post the newest chapter next week. XD
> 
> (07/08/2017)

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this way back in 2017.
> 
> Anyway, PLEASE WATCH OBSIDIAN!!! AHHH!!
> 
> If you have questions or if you liked my story… :) Thank you so much. :3 I appreciate it  
> I'm also in twitter @sentimeteor.
> 
> -Senti


End file.
